* * *
You awaken to the sun streaming harshly into your eyes through the slatted window above the little sink. The angle of the sofa edge has left an awful stiffness in your neck, and your right hand is tingling with sleep. You wipe the bleariness from your eyes and listen for sounds of life from Buffy’s room. Hearing none, you stumble to the shower and turn it on hot, letting the water run over your neck and back as you attempt to wake up.
As you open the door to the bathroom to let the steam escape, you spot Buffy quickly exiting the front door. “Hey!” you yell. “Buffy!”
She turns her head for only a moment and shouts “See you on set” too casually before pulling the door shut.
The days that follow seem interminable and the filming schedule is brutal. Buffy’s made it clear she will not talk with you about Jackson, and you try to keep from thinking about what is going on between them. You try several times to broach the subject, only to have Buffy none-too-subtly change it. Even the marks on Buffy’s wrist disappeared too quickly—a result of makeup magic, no doubt.
While she’s doing your makeup each morning you peek for signs of other bruises or marks, but you can see none. You miss the closeness you shared and feel more alone than ever. Worse, you’re starting to feel angry that Buffy has so easily chosen Jackson’s affections over your friendship.
Most days you find yourself so exhausted after shooting that you simply come back to the trailer and crash. You’re too tired even to feel lonely. You fall asleep each night with thoughts of Colm floating through your mind. You try to conjure his scent, the warmth of his touch, hoping the memory will transform itself into a dream that will comfort you in the night. Sometimes you are aware of Buffy coming into the trailer long after you’ve fallen asleep, sometimes not.
You’re finally granted a day off as filming begins to wrap. You cannot wait for a day of true relaxation, and plan to do absolutely nothing but park yourself on a towel on an unoccupied part of the beach far away from the set.
Your day off dawns with the sky a perfect blue, just a few shades different from the slightly greener and perfectly translucent water below. You stuff your book, your sunglasses, your sunblock, and two bottles of water into your tote, slip your cover-up over your head, and grab a towel.
As you are about to reach for the handle, the trailer door unexpectedly opens. You’re momentarily blinded and can scarcely believe your eyes as Buffy hops through the door. It’s the first time you’ve seen her outside of your morning makeup sessions. She catches you so much by surprise that you react instinctively and pull her into a big hug.
She too seems taken off guard and genuinely pleased that you are so happy to see her. For a moment you almost believe everything will be okay.
“So,” she begins slowly, “day off, huh? Have any plans?”
“Going to the beach,” you tell her. “I cannot wait to just sit. What about you?”
“Just kind of having a low-key day.” You notice her eyes don’t meet yours as she answers. “Jackson is renting a little skiff from this boat-rental place on the beach. Supposedly there are some gorgeous, untouched, tiny little islands just off the coast. He wants to check it out.”
You smile as she looks up at you. “Sounds fun,” you say.
Buffy finally manages to look you fully in the eyes. “You know what I was thinking?” Her eyes brighten and widen to their usual starry state. “You should come with us!”
It’s the last thing you expect to hear.
“No, Buffy, but thanks. The two of you go. That’s the plan. I don’t want to be a third wheel.”
“You wouldn’t, not at all. We would love it if you come. You could get to know Jackson better. He’s way different when he’s not working. It’ll be so much fun!”
Buffy’s tone is bordering on frantic as she begins to gather her beach gear into a straw tote. Is there a note of pleading in her voice, or are you imagining things? You never thought you would so much as run into Buffy today, much less be invited along on a boat trip with her boyfriend.
Buffy emerges from the tiny bathroom after a quick change into her swimsuit. She takes a breath and pauses to look up at you. “So?”
“Does Jackson even know you’re inviting me?”
“As a matter of fact, it was his idea.”
This is more surprising than the invitation itself and now you truly do not know what to think. Buffy’s nervous, frantic tone, the pleading note, the whole thing has you thoroughly thrown off, and more than a little worried. You pretend to sort through your beach tote for a minute trying to process it all. Finally you decide to just ask.
“Buffy, what exactly is going on here?”
She laughs and looks away. “Nothing. What do you mean? I’m—we’re just asking you to come with us. If you don’t feel like it, I get it. It’s fine.” She takes a breath and finally looks you square in the eyes. “Please come,” she says in a tone that melts your heart. “I miss you.”
“Buffy, I—” you begin to answer but decide to think it through first. Why would she want you to come along so badly? Why would Jackson even suggest it, if in fact that’s how it happened? And why is Buffy suddenly interested in you getting to know Jackson better? Is she asking for help, or does she genuinely miss your friendship?
You think back to the lazy day you have planned and feel pulled in two directions, although you realize one of them is completely selfish. Plus, if you stay, you are going to worry about her all day, and probably not be able to relax. On the other hand, if you do go with them, isn’t it going to be weird and awkward? But maybe it’s totally innocent and it actually could be fun . . . and you do miss spending time with Buffy. Suddenly you picture the two of you laughing about everything that’s happened these past few weeks, reconnecting as you lie side-by-side on the beach while Jackson snorkels off in the distance.
You so need the rest, but you also need your friend. What should you do?
To say no to Buffy and decide to rest by yourself on the beach, turn to page 94.
To accompany Buffy and Jackson, keep reading.
“Okay,” you tell Buffy decidedly, “I’m in.”
A look of mixed joy and relief washes over Buffy’s glowing face. She claps her hands like a delighted child. “Thank you! I’m so glad you’re coming! We’ll have so much fun!”
After Jackson finishes the paperwork at the beach-front boat rental stand, he turns and grins playfully as he takes the two of you in. “Well, isn’t this a sight for sore eyes. Look at the two of you! I couldn’t ask for better company. Ready?”
The scenery along the shoreline is breathtaking. Tall palms sprouting from low, scraggy dunes give way to the stunning contrast of pure white sand against the liquid perfection of the incandescent turquoise water. It’s an image you wish you could burn into your memory for any time you need a mental vacation.
A small, red-bordered sign posted on a beach catches your attention. “Let’s go check it out,” says Jackson, turning the boat sharply toward the shore.
As you approach the deserted shoreline, you squint to try to make out the sign, surely some kind of warning. “It looks like a pretty place to relax. But it’s totally deserted,” Buffy says.
When you’re a few yards from shore, a single, diminutive, and very wrinkled man comes jauntily jogging from a path you couldn’t have seen before, two little Jack Russell terriers bouncing along at his feet, as the sign finally becomes legible.
The three of you make the pronouncement at once, “CAUTION, NUDE BEACH!” You laugh hysterically as the fully naked man flops and flaps along the shore in all his glory.
Jackson revs the little motor and cuts away from the beach. “Sorry girls, can’t compete with that.”
“We wouldn’t want you to try!” Buffy tells him, still in hysterics.
You begin to catch your breath, but giggles keep bubbling to the surface as you replay the hilarious scene. You feel yourself finally beginning to relax. Maybe this day will be just what you
need after all.
As Jackson steers the boat out into the open water, you look over the side. The view straight to the bottom through the glass-clear water is dizzying. “What’s all that?” you ask as Jackson slows the motor over what looks like a line of mossy rocks beneath the surface.
“It’s the reef. Pretty, isn’t it?” Jackson asks.
You can see the tiny figures of fish darting in and out among the rocks and coral. You feel a swooping sense of vertigo as you realize how deep the water is.
“You know,” drawls Jackson, unzipping a sturdy black tote and pulling out a set of masks, snorkels, and fins, “I do believe I’m in the mood for a little sightseeing. Anyone care to join me?”
“We’ll pass,” Buffy answers for both of you. “Have fun!”
“See ya on the surface, ladies,” Jackson says, before pulling on his swim fins and executing a headfirst backflip into the water. He surfaces once, blowing water from his snorkel, then disappears below, leaving you and Buffy bobbing on the gentle current.
You smile at Buffy and lean back against the side of the boat, adjusting the brim of your hat. The strong sun, the warm air, and the gentle rocking has you feeling relaxed.
“How do we know we won’t drift away from him?” you ask Buffy.
“He’ll stay close,” she answers. “Believe me.”
You pause for a moment and close your eyes, then take the opportunity to finally ask what’s been on your mind.
“Buffy, what is going on with you guys? I’ve hardly seen you, you don’t tell me anything, and now you suddenly invite me to come with you today? Are you two serious? I mean, I can see you like him, and he certainly seems to be into you, but what is the deal?”
Buffy’s expression is suddenly dead serious. She peers at you over her huge sunglasses, then says in a whisper, “Okay. I’m going to tell you why I wanted you to come today.”
Okay . . . you think as she pauses dramatically.
“I want you to help me find out how serious he really is about me. I want you to test him.”
You shake your head and blink at her. “What? What, what, what?”
“Listen, it’s not a big deal, it’s just . . . Okay, so he says he really likes me and that I’m the only one he’s seeing, but he’s such a flirt and it’s hard to tell, so . . . The thing is, I really like him, Anna, I mean, like I really like him. I think he feels the same about me, I mean he gets jealous anytime another guy even glances at me. I think this could be the real deal. But then, at the same time, I think maybe he just sees me as an on-set fling. The point is we’re about to wrap, and I don’t really want to get my heart set on something that’s not going to go anywhere after we leave. So, will you help me?”
Buffy ceases her rapid-fire talking, and a million thoughts run through your head. You don’t know which one to express first, but you try to dive right in.
“First of all, jealousy does not equate to love. You do know that? And second, why don’t you just ask him? Have you even had this conversation?”
“We have, but we don’t get a lot of time to talk and when we’re together he wants to unwind and have fun. He says he’s serious about me and he can be so sweet, always giving me compliments, and he’s super attentive when we’re together.” She bites her lower lip wistfully. “I just so hope this is real, Anna.”
You hope for her sake it’s real, too, but the more Buffy says the more certain you are he is quite the opposite of serious and probably not anywhere near where Buffy is emotionally. Part of you wants to play along, just so Buffy will be forced to face the facts. But you don’t want to hurt your friend, and you know this can only end painfully.
You scan the water’s surface for any sign of Jackson before you say more. Water spurts from the tip of his snorkel a few yards away, then the tips of his fins disappear as he dives below the surface.
“Buffy,” you begin as gently as you can, “I don’t want you to get your heart broken either. I really don’t. But why not just let it develop and see what happens? Why not let it take its course?”
Buffy takes off her sunglasses and lays them on a lifejacket sitting on the bottom of the boat. She places her hand gently on her belly and it all becomes much too clear. “There’s a reason.”
You are stunned into silence and have no idea what to say or do. Should you really “test” this man—who you know will fail miserably—for the sake of your friend’s future? Given the bombshell she’s just dropped, do you really have any choice? Suddenly this day has taken a turn that makes you wish you had stayed back at the beach, blissfully ignorant. You are at a total loss.
“Where is he?” you ask, as you realize you haven’t seen Jackson reemerge. “He can’t stay down that long, can he?”
You both begin to get a little panicked. “I hope we didn’t drift,” says Buffy as she looks over the side of the boat.
You peer over your side and both of you scan the water in silence as you search for Jackson. Each moment that passes with no sign of him makes you more and more anxious. You reach for a set of fins and a mask, when a huge splash of water sloshes over the boat from the stern as Jackson leaps in over the side in one fluid motion.
You and Buffy both jump in fright. “Gotcha!” Jackson yells, amused.
Buffy throws a snorkel at him. “You scared the crap out of me!”
You wonder how much he’s heard—and where he has been all this time. If he overheard anything he gives nothing away, confidently pulling the cord on the boat’s little engine and steering you toward a tiny dot of land in the distance.
Jackson wades through the water to pull the boat close to the pure-white strand of deserted beach on the tiny out island, this one with no posted warning signs. You hop from the boat and wade through the bath-warm water beside Buffy, as Jackson hauls the anchor up onto the beach. He tosses the snorkel gear, your towels, and various beach bags up onto the beach. Buffy shakes loose a blanket and spreads it gracefully over the sand. Somehow she manages to look entirely relaxed. Meanwhile, you are a bundle of nervous energy.
Jackson plops his glistening body down onto the edge of the towel, unzips his bag, and pulls out a glistening bottle of Jack Daniels along with three clear, plastic cups and another little bottle of an unlabeled liquid. He pours generous servings of both liquids into each cup and passes them around. He downs his like a shot and promptly jogs for the shoreline, dives in, then turns onto his back and swims toward the open water in a graceful backstroke.
Buffy wrinkles her nose at her drink and pours it into the sand, then wades through the gentle surf to join Jackson. You watch as he swims back to meet her and as they embrace, Jackson lifts her squealing into the air and tosses her, laughing, into the water with a splash.
Maybe they are okay, you think as you slowly sip your drink and settle back onto your towel, letting the heat radiating from the sand below and the sun above envelope you.
Before you know it, you’re waking up from a dreamless sleep. You’re completely disoriented and scramble to push up onto your elbows. The sun is low on the horizon and the sky has taken on an unearthly shade of magenta. You roll onto your stomach and scan the beach for Jackson and Buffy. How long have you been asleep? You must have been more exhausted than you thought. Everything seems strangely blurred in the pinkish twilight. You impatiently push your sunglasses up onto your head, but it doesn’t help.
You shake your head hard to bring things into focus, and you spot something lying unmoving a few yards from where you’ve been sleeping. For a moment your heart catches in your chest and you can’t breathe. You peer closely at the still figure of Buffy, then jump up from your spot on the sand to go to her.
Suddenly you hear a splash from the water and a cold wet hand grabs your waist.
“Boo!” Jackson yells, swinging you around, his sopping hair splashing around his sun-bronzed face.
“Jeez, Jackson, that’s the second time today!” You feel both silly and incredibly uncomfortable. Maybe you overreacted. Obvious
ly Jackson wouldn’t be joking with you if something were wrong.
“Sorry, Sunshine,” he drawls with a mischievous grin. “You walked right into that one.”
“I can’t believe I slept so long. I was just checking on Buffy. Is she okay?”
“Don’t worry, Mother Hen, she’s safe and sound. Just a little too much sun. She’s pretty red but I’ve dutifully slathered her with fresh sunblock and made sure she’s in a shady spot. Note the trees?”
Sure enough, Buffy’s blanket is positioned carefully beneath the filtered shade of swaying palms. Still, you’re worried about her. She seems to be out cold and something just doesn’t feel right. Just then, Buffy startles in her sleep, snorts, and turns onto her side.
“See?” Jackson assures you. “She’s just fine.”
“What time is it?” The shadows lengthen by the moment. At this latitude, sundown comes early and suddenly.
“No worries, mon,” Jackson says in his best Rasta accent. “We in de islands. Jus’ hang loose.”
“You don’t think we should get back? It’s getting kind of dark.”
“It’s all good. It’s probably only a twenty minute run back. Remember, we took a few detours getting here. We have plenty of time. Just relax and enjoy it while you can.”
You realize he’s probably right. Tomorrow will be a day of solid shooting, and this is the only time you’ll have to enjoy this beautiful paradise. You gaze over at Buffy again, wishing she were awake to keep you company.
Jackson slides back into the water, floating on his back and splashing around like a little kid. “Man, this is the life. I could do this all day.”
“You have been.”
“What, don’t you swim?”
“Of course I swim. It’s great exercise.”
“I mean for fun. You know what they say about all work and no play . . .” Jackson trails off in a lazy crawl then turns sharply to send a huge splash of water in your direction. You jump out of the way but not in time to avoid the deluge, and your cover-up is sopping wet.
“Hey!” you shout, marching toward the water. “No fair!”
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